Shall I compare her to a summer’s day?
A thousand times more sweet she seems to me!
Nor may Time’s winds – (which darling buds of May
Do shake) – unsettle love’s perennity.
Restrained the eye of heaven sometimes seems,
It often sends a drought, or shines too hot,
No permanence is possible. Like dreams
Each season soon declines, returning not.
Vain are Time’s threats when, lacking base designs,
A poet frames her praises in fair verse,
Imprinting for the future lyric lines
Lending life when all else hearse rehearse.
Life glories her as long as Man draws breath,
As Never tasting shadow land of Death.

Jonathan ROBIN

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/shall-i-compare-her-sandrine-sonnet-cycle-after-sonnet-xviii-william-shakespeare/